6 Sweets Please Help
by Interest Me
Summary: Here is part 2 of the story that started in Athena and Tarzan. Now that our heroes are married, is divorce in the near future? How will they bring in Zeus? Can BnB just cozy up to each other again?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story is part 2. The first part is called Athena and Tarzan. All of the stories I've published to this point are part of a series that is best read in the following order:

The Memory in the Amnesia

Booths R Us

The Death in the Vow

Birthday Suits in a Suite

Athena and Tarzan—Part one of a two part story. And now:

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

CHAPTER ONE

Susan H.

_**Previously on Bones**_

"_I don't need time, Booth. I need a divorce."_

_"You don't have any grounds for a divorce."_

_"Okay, let's be rational. We are both tired because we haven't slept much. We just need some rest then we can talk about this logically."_

_"No. I hate to say this. We need Sweets."_

_**And Now:**_

Sweets noted his two most reluctant clients sat with their knees pointing away from each other. His shoulders let down their guard since he no longer feared a united attack. Booth crossed his arms and stared at the floor. Brennan rested her chin in her hand and examined the ceiling.

After several minutes of silence, Sweets broke it.

"Welcome back. Would you like to talk about your week?"

"We didn't catch the bad guy," Booth said.

"But we have bones now, so it's only a matter of time." Brennan countered.

"Yes, because no one ever caught a bad guy before forensic science."

"I'm sure they did, and many books were reproduced before Gutenberg, but I'm confident your monks don't want to go back to the old ways."

"So, aside from printing presses and forensics, have you had any other disagreements?"

"Let's say we have mutual friends," Booth started.

"Agent Booth, it's not healthy to deflect. If this is about you, then just say it."

"I said we have mutual friends who entered a marriage. The marriage however was not something either planned, but they did it to make others happy."

"Like an arranged marriage?"

"Exactly," Booth said, "Exactly like an arranged marriage."

"So, the couple agreed to marry, to placate those arranging the marriage, but they also had an agreement to annul it. They could claim they gave it a shot, and it didn't work out," Brennan added.

"My friend thinks the marriage is working."

"Well my friend thinks her husband backed out of an agreement."

"Okay. So, tell me more about this marriage. Was it consummated?"

"Yes," Booth said.

"Although, just claiming a marriage is consummated is giving credence to a value system with which I strongly disagree. I mean, what about a paraplegic, who is unable to perform sexually? By claiming a marriage is consummated, or completed by sexual intercourse is to suggest that the paraplegic's marriage can never be complete."

"Okay Dr. Brennan, I will refrain from using that offensive term."

"Thank you."

"So, there was sexual activity. Did your friends mention how that worked out?"

"Beyond excellent," Booth said.

"It had its 'moments'."

"Oh, moments, is that what we're calling it now?"

"We are doing nothing. I am calling it moments."

"Well, my friend doesn't believe in divorce."

"Well, my friend doesn't believe in marriage!"

"Okay, I'm going to prevent a bloodbath and stop here. Take a break from each other this weekend, but I want you back in my office Monday morning."

They both jumped up and headed for the door.

"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, Monday morning is mandatory."

They shoved shoulders as they passed through the doorway

***

When Brennan returned to the lab, Angie followed her into her office.

"Sweetie, you have been avoiding me today, and it really bothers me because I know something is wrong."

"I'm fine Angela. It's been a long week, that's all."

"Okay, I have the perfect cure for that. Two passes to a weekend of full body massages, mud baths, facials, pedicures, manicures, gourmet food, and any other completely self-indulgent luxury you can imagine."

"Angie, I just want to spend a quiet weekend at home."

"See, I know that's not what will happen. You will spend the weekend here, working. Brennan, if you force me to kidnap you that will make me a felon. Again. You don't want to be responsible for that do you?"

"Angela…"

"No is not an option here. I will be at your place at 7:00, and you will be packed, and we will be on our way."

Angela left the office. Brennan wondered when she had lost control of her life. She read the reports prepared for her by her team on the Zeus case. She read the travel information Mark's sister had supplied.

She entered the forensic platform and examined the second skull she had sent to the lab. DNA reports showed the first skull belonged to 22-year-old Anne Sutton, who disappeared while visiting her sister in Stone Mountain, Georgia 20 years ago.

Hodgins' preliminary report on particulates scraped from the second skull showed evidence that the skull was originally buried near Anne Sutton. The Washington state soil made the identification a bit more complicated.

She listened to her team speculate that the second skull belonged to 20-year-old Margaret Fisher, who had just moved to Stone Mountain with a friend, when she disappeared, also 20 years ago. Brennan, however, reminded them not to draw a conclusion until all the evidence was processed. To that end, she was setting tissue markers on the skull, until Angie interrupted her.

"Brennan, if you are going to be ready at 7:00, you need to leave now."

"Angie, I lost track of time. Listen, I really want to finish these tissue markers before I leave."

"Why? I won't be here to make a sketch. It can wait until Monday."

Brennan exited the platform and headed to her office.

"Now you're listening to reason."

"No, I'm not. I'm just too tired to argue."

"That works for me."

***

Brennan and Angela arrived at the lobby of the spa. A painting as large as the wall overwhelmed and captured Brennan. The painted woman danced and defied all physical laws of gravity and movement. Free and light, swirls of energy and nature levitated her dance. Emotion poured from the image into Brennan's heart.

"Do you like it?" Angie asked.

"I, I love it. The woman, she's liberated, she can breathe."

"Thank you. This weekend was part of the payment."

"You painted this Angela? How can you access such a spirit?"

"It's life's goal isn't it Sweetie, to reach that place?"

The painting continued to absorb Brennan, so Angela went to the desk to check them in.

"We're set Sweetie."

"What do you call it?"

"The official name is _Waltzing with Nature and Light_, but my private name and motivation is _Height of the Big "O"._"

"The big "O"?"

"That's right Sweetie."

Brennan thought for a minute, and then said, "Oh Angie, you're incorrigible."

"Yes I am. Let's go check out the room."


	2. Chapter 2

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

CHAPTER TWO

Susan H.

Angela kicked her shoes off as soon as they walked through the door. She dug her toes into the plush white carpet. Each bed held a gift basket full of exotic personal items, a bottle of chilled champagne, and a glass. Angela belly flopped on her bed.

"Brennan, do we drink my bottle or yours first?"

Brennan sat on her bed and sifted through the basket.

"Does anyone really believe that Mediterranean Sea crystals are better than ordinary salt from anywhere? At an elemental level, they are exactly the same."

A loud pop silenced Brennan, as Angela opened her bottle of champagne. She poured a glass and set the bottle in the bucket of ice provided.

"Tell you what Sweetie, you drink yours, and I'll drink mine. You keep drinking until girl talk flows from your mouth. I'll keep drinking, well, I'll just keep drinking. I'm going to take my Mediterranean Sea crystals and soak in the Jacuzzi. I won't be thinking about where, on the elemental chart, my crystals fall."

Angela grabbed her basket and her ice bucket and shuffled into the bathroom. Brennan listened to water rushing into the tub and Angela singing. She dropped her bottle of champagne into the ice bucket and headed back to the lobby.

She sunk into a chair and stared at Angela's painting. Could she ever reach such a place of freedom? If she dropped her mental weights, would she miraculously find herself in the midst of such a carefree dance? What would it feel like? She thought about the pool party, floating weightlessly with Booth's leg interlocked with hers.

She closed her eyes and put herself in the painting. Wind rushing in her ears, a flower tickling her cheek as it flew past, the inability to reach the earth, and the desire to fly higher. She imagined her hair blown from her shoulders and whirling in the breeze. She remembered Booth grabbing her firmly by the waist, lifting her just inches from the floor, and floating her to the bed.

Her mind clawed its way back into the painting, and she mentally inhaled the air. First she smelled the earthy scent of paint, but it freshened until pure cleanness and exhilaration filled her lungs. Did people ever truly have moments like this? Was it a goal she should set?

***

While Brennan projected herself into artwork, Booth sat on his couch sipping a beer and staring at his wedding ring. He picked up the signed marriage license, turned it over, and read the words voiced by the minister that night. Brennan had insisted on a civil ceremony, and Booth had not argued. Why should she care if it was religious or civil if the process was completely artificial to her?

He remembered her red nightshirt, the glasses, the hair, his t-shirt. She had called that "the moment". Booth smiled. It had been a great moment. Incredible. He considered that maybe her comment to Sweets about "moments" wasn't meant to be as hurtful as it had been. After all, their "moments" had been spectacular.

His shoulders relaxed, he tipped his beer to his lips. "Moments" was the best she had to give in Sweets office, but she gave it. He should have realized it. He recalled a dead army friend. How he would repeat the mantra, "if it's worth having, it's worth working for."

"It sure is Buddy," Booth said to the memory of his friend,

"It sure is."

***

The next morning, Brennan popped out of the bathroom dressed for her morning workout. Angela stared at her though blurry eyes.

"Angela, you look hung-over. What time did you break into my bottle?"

"Sometime after I contemplated the gift of color and just before I philosophized that the world is an artistic creation in progress. It was good stuff, I should have written it down." She plopped back on her pillow.

"Well, I think you are seriously dehydrated and should take in non-alcoholic fluids this morning. Also, you have the most abstract case of bed head I have ever seen."

Angela covered her face with a pillow.

"Just go workout, and don't try to bond by using words like abstract. I'll meet you for our morning massage at 10:30," she mumbled under her pillow.

***

Brennan lay on her stomach as the massage therapist rubbed a hot stone along her back. She thought about Mark James and wondered if he killed again. Booth had agents tailing him, so it was unlikely. Why would he make such a big show of wanting to control them, but then reveal his identity, effectively ending the "game"?

Perhaps that was the game. Prove he could force them to marry, and then force them to prove he was a serial killer, while he laughed and dared them to try.

"Temperance, dear, I think you're working against me. Try to clear your mind, think of relaxing and happy things."

The therapist began working on the ever-present knot in Brennan's neck. Brennan remember sitting in a tub as Booth worked on the same knot. How his large less skilled hands slid over her soapy back.

"That's much better," the therapist said. "You must have found a very happy place."

Brennan recalled her own hands sliding on Booth's soapy back. Booth had limited her to his back, but he couldn't limit her thoughts. She had wanted to slip her hands around the front of him and soap his chest and abdomen. Glide her hands down the tops of his thighs.

"Temperance, I'm going to leave a heated rock here, it's a problem area for you, and I'll start on your legs. Just continue to relax." The therapist covered her back, uncovered one leg, and lightly greased it with massaged oil.

Brennan returned to her very happy place. She was denied that night, but her chance had come. She'd been given the privilege of exploring every inch of his body. She learned what made his eyes lose focus, what made them close, and what made him grab her and pull her tightly to him. Each of his reactions was a reward for her efforts.

"Okay dear, I need you to turn over now. Stay relaxed, and I will help you."

Brennan flipped, and went back to her thoughts. She remembered the feel of his hot breath washing down her back, his soft whisper in her ear. She realized the warmth she felt in her ears were her own tears. She missed Booth.

"It's okay Temperance, sometimes, as a deep massage releases toxins and stress, in can cause some people to let loose a few tears. Just try to find a soothing place."

Brennan's thoughts turned to the painting. She spent the rest of the massage dancing weightless with the wind.


	3. Chapter 3

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

CHAPTER THREE

Susan H.

While Brennan succumbed to the massage, Booth and Parker played catch in the park. Booth helped his son work in the new mitt he had just bought him.

"I can't believe you outgrew your old mitt already Parker."

"I'm going to be as big as you one day dad."

Booth laughed as his heart swelled. "You're growing faster and faster Buddy. What do you want to do after lunch?"

"I want to go to the pet store!"

"Okay Parker, but you know your mother won't let you have a pet right now."

"I know. I just like to look."

"Yeah, you like to look, and then try to convince me to buy you a pet."

Parker giggled. "Mom says you're the soft touch."

"Yeah, I'm sure she does. No pets!"

Parker giggled again. Booth ruffled his hair and they headed toward the SUV.

***

"You look much better," Brennan told Angela at lunch.

"Thanks. The massage therapist used cold stone therapy on my face to try and reduce that after-party puffiness."

"Did you make prints of that painting?"

"No, it was a commissioned work, so the spa wanted something unique. But I tell you what, I have some excellent photos of it, I think I could bootleg you something."

Brennan smiled. "I would love it."

"So, we never talked about your trip."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, one day you and Booth are applying for a marriage license, next you're off to Washington, then New Orleans, and suddenly you're back in D.C."

"Once we reached Aurora, we identified Zeus, and Booth was able to have agents tail him. We had forensic evidence. We both felt it was safe to return."

"Yeah, but something is different. The two of you seem different."

"It's nothing. I think we've been spending too much time together. That's all. This is a good break. So tell me this, what took one and a half bottles of champagne to deny?"

"Oh that. Just my usual crisis. Pouring my feelings onto canvas and traveling the world versus drawing death."

"Why do you stay Angela? How do you stay when you have paintings like that living inside of you? How can you channel such life, freeness, and joy through simple pigment?"

"Well, I realize now, my day job enables me to do so. I paint what I know has been taken from my faceless victims. I accept that by living such contrasts, I became a better artist. I am able to more fully embrace the joyful side of life. Before now, I just took it for granted."

"Angela, you are a beautiful person. Your day job brings answers and healing to so many. Yet, the art that spills out after hours is so therapeutic."

"Thanks Sweetie."

The two friends finished lunch in lighter conversation.

***

After lunch, Parker and Booth roamed the aisles of the pet store. Parker stopped at a cage holding two colorful birds.

"Love Birds," Parker read. "Dad, why do they call them love birds?"

"Hmm. Well, I guess because one is a girl, and one is a boy, and they are, well married."

"How can a bird get married dad?" Parker laughed.

"They don't get married like people, but they live together and have families, and to people that seems like they are married."

"You and mom had a family, and you're not married."

"That's true. Not all families are the same."

"I know dad. They teach us that in school. Every family is u…u….unique. That's what my teacher says."

"Your teacher is absolutely right."

"Are you going to get married?"

"Why do you ask Parker?"

"'Cuz, Jimmy at school said his dad got married, and his new wife doesn't like him. Nobody really likes Jimmy though, because he sticks his finger in his nose and tries to touch you. He got in trouble with the teacher. She said it spread germs, and made him stay with her during recess for a week. He still does it though, when she's not looking."

"Yuck. You know I would never marry anyone that didn't like you. Besides, what woman could resist you?"

"Dad, yuck."

Booth laughed. "Just give it time son."

"Let's go look at the fish!" Parker grabbed Booth's hand and tugged him to the aquariums.

"Look at the goldfish Dad. All you need is a bowl, a fish and some little rocks. It isn't even like a pet."

"Do you have to name it, feed it, and clean its bowl?"

"Yes."

"Then it's a pet."

Parker and Booth left the pet store with a fish named Henry, and all of Henry's gear.

***

After dinner, Brennan and Angela lay suspended in mud baths.

"This reminds me of my old boyfriend Tom-Tom." Angela said.

"Did you two take a mud bath together?"

"No. He always tried to convince me to get into mud wrestling. I guess it was a real turn-on for him. You know how drummers are."

"No, I don't. How are drummers?"

"Well, they have a reputation for being just a little strange."

"You know what this reminds me of?"

"What?"

"That time they found a corpse in a mud hole in the national park. A young couple climbed in for a romantic evening, and the skeleton poked the girl in the anus."

"I'm going to just relax now, Brennan."

"Okay."

***

Booth crashed his car one last time, to Parker's delight.

"I beat you dad!"

"Yes, you did. I think you're going to be a great driver when you're old enough to drive a real car."

"Let's wrestle!" Parker yelled and jumped on Booth.

"Whoa," Booth said, flat on his back, "a little warning."

"I wanna fly!"

Booth balanced Parker on his feet and carefully let go.

"I'm superman," Parker yelled, airplaning.

Booth grabbed his arm and balanced him, "Careful Buddy. We don't want to take you back to mom with any bumps."

The two rolled, and wrestled and tickled until Booth surrendered.

"You got me Parker. You're the winner."

Parker jumped up, and punched the air repeatedly as he hopped over to Henry.

"I won Henry," He told the fish. "Hey Dad, Henry likes his car. I told you he would."

"Parker, it's time to get your things together. I have to take you home."

"Aww Dad."

"I don't like it either, but your mom misses you, so we have to make her happy too."

"Okay," Parker sadly gathered his things.

"Goodbye Henry, I'll see you next week. Don't forget to feed him Dad."

"No promises son."

"Dad!"

"Come on, I'm teasing. I would never forget to feed Henry."

"No, because he's family now. Right Dad?"

"That's right."

***

That night, Brennan and Angela relaxed on their beds.

"This has been nice Angie, thanks."

"We aren't done yet. Today was about working out the kinks, and tomorrow is about beautifying."

"I plan to swim some laps in the morning. You want to come?"

"Nope, I'm sleeping in. I'm taking a vacation from my daily exercise and everything else."

"Angie, when you got married on the island, how were you able to just go on with your life for years as if it never happened?"

"Well, it helped that I remembered very little of it, and also that I didn't honestly believe it was a legal marriage."

"How about when you found out it was real, did it change you life view?"

"Hmmm. My life view. I was with Hodgins for quite some time, and we had plans to marry. I was with my husband for one foggy memory on an island. It really didn't change how I viewed myself."

"If you had married Hodgins, do you think you would have changed?"

"I don't believe my core values would have changed, but we all adapt to our circumstances."

"Remember the Human Jerky case? The victim's wife, Delilah, changed everything about herself, including the way she dressed, after she married. Then, when she was widowed, she went back to the same life she had left for her husband. I mean, which was she? Did she sacrifice for her husband, or was she sacrificing until she married?"

"I don't know Sweetie. Some of us are more flexible and can bend, and some of us bend only a little before we break. I guess 60 years ago, it was simpler. You grew up, got married, had children. You supported your husband's career, and he paid your way."

"I don't understand. Are you saying that was better?"

"No, not at all. It's just we either have conformity, or individuality. Individuality requires more self examination, since we have to actually make the decisions."

"So, you're saying you don't have an answer."

"Exactly. I usually ask Sweets when I lose my way."

"You're in therapy with Sweets?"

"Oh no, not therapy. When something is bothering me, I seek him out, wherever he happens to be. The diner's a good bet at lunchtime."

"Really? He actually helps?"

"Yeah, he does. He doesn't tell me what to do, but helps me clear my mind so I can decide what to do."

"Interesting."

"Anyway, I'm exhausted from my day of pampering. I'm going to sleep now."

"Night Angie."

"Night Sweetie."

***

Booth returned from Rebecca's. It was late because he and Rebecca had discussed some things. He checked Henry, sat on the couch, and turned on the late night news. He toyed with his wedding ring as he watched. When it was over, he slipped the ring on and went to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Sweets Please Help

Chapter Four

Susan H.

Booth woke early Sunday morning and went for a run. He ran his thumb over his wedding ring, and inhaled the morning air, hoping to clear his mind. His brain was still muddy when he ran up his porch stairs and into his house.

"Good morning Henry," he said and dropped a pinch of food into the fishbowl. He tapped a button, and soon the smell of brewing coffee filled his kitchen. He skimmed the paper as he drank his coffee.

He showered, shaved, and entered his church forty-five minutes before the service started. He sat in the dim light, smelling the candles, and thinking about his marriage. He patiently waited and prayed for some direction, but discerned none. He sat until other parishioners began entering and decided maybe his answers would come during the service.

***

Brennan and Angela received pedicures, manicures, facials, haircuts, and now Brennan reluctantly awaited the final procedure. Angela talked her into getting a henna tattoo. Brennan flicked through a book of designs.

A petite Indian woman, in a pink sari trimmed in metallic gold, entered her area, and pulled privacy curtains. She washed her hands and stood next to Brennan's chair.

"Hello Temperance," she said in a melodic, Indian accent. "My name is Chimmy, and I vwill apply your henna today. Have you decided on a design?"

"No, I haven't. I don't want my hands decorated. I want to have it done where I can hide it."

"Okay, I see. That book you are looking at is hands only. How vwould you like a design around the belly button?"

Chimmy handed her another book, and explained the designs.

"You see the circle in the middle of the pattern represents the belly button. The design then radiates from the center."

Brennan looked through the designs and found a loosely diamond shaped design. It contained flowers, birds and complicated scrollwork. She showed Chimmy.

"Yes, this is a favorite of mine. I vwill vwork vwith a stencil, because this is very extravagant." She located the stencil, and slipped on latex gloves. A motor hummed as Brennan's chair reclined.

"I am cleaning the belly now, and you may feel cold," She said as she tore open a foil packaged and removed a wipe. After cleaning the area, she centered the stencil and taped it down.

"I vwill apply the henna paste, and it vwill take three hours to completely set. Then, you peel it off. At first, the color vwill be bright orange, but in a day or two, it vwill deepen to red-brown," she talked as she began applying the henna. "It tickles, no?"

"A little. I'm okay." Brennan answered.

"This vwill not wash off, but it vwill vwear off in three or four weeks. The more you vwash, the faster it vwill fade. You show this to your husband or boyfriend, and he vwill like it very much."

"I don't actually have anyone to show it to," Brennan said.

"Ah, vwell, you vwill get a boyfriend with your pretty belly."

Brennan held still and endured the slightly unpleasant sensation of henna being applied.

"No chemicals are added to this henna. Some applications have chemicals added to give a variety of color, but this is no good for the health, so vwe don't use them."

"That's good."

"In India, vwoman decorate their hands the day before their marriage. The new brides are proud of their hands, because the designs show people they are newly married."

After a while Chimmy announced she was finished.

"Now you stay here for three hours and let the henna set, okay? Vwould you like me to turn down the lights so you can nap. It is alvways good to nap: it makes the time go quickly. I can light a nice candle for you too."

"Yes please, that sounds relaxing."

"It is. Vwould you like some soft music?"

"Yes."

Chimmy played four samples of music, and Brennan chose the style she liked.

"Okay, you relax, and press this button if you need anything at all. It reminds some clients of the hospital," Chimmy giggled and left Brennan in peace.

***

Booth picked up Chinese take-out for his dinner. He tapped on Henry's bowl, and sat down to eat. He was still uncertain how to approach Brennan and their marriage. All day he waited, no answers came to him. He finished his supper direct from the take-out containers and threw them in the garbage.

He decided to change for bed, and just relax the rest of the night. He chose the silk boxers Brennan had bought for him, a gray t-shirt, and his fuzzy red socks, because those felt so good. He remembered when Brennan had massaged his feet, knowing they ached without him ever having told her.

He grabbed his phone and punched a contact. The phone dialed and rang.

"Pastor Stevenson."

"Ryan? This is Agent Booth. I worked on your father's case."

"Of course Agent Booth. How are you?"

"I'm okay. How is your congregation?"

"They are healing."

"That's great. Ryan, do you have some time? I have a situation, and I'm hoping you can give me some insight."

"I hope I can help you Agent Booth. You've done so much for me and my congregation."

Two hours later, Booth hung up with the pastor, and lay back to watch television. Someone knocked at his door. It was Brennan.


	5. Chapter 5

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

CHAPTER FIVE

Susan H.

Booth opened the door.

"Booth, I know that my comment about moments was hurtful, but isn't life just a lot of moments strung together?"

"Yes."

"You know the moments I referred to were, well, earth shattering."

"They were."

"I'm difficult. I'm mean, sometimes. I'm murky on the emotional aspect of relationships. I don't know if I want to be married."

"Well, I've been tortured, shot, beaten, blown-up, imprisoned and rejected. In other words, I am uniquely qualified to deal with you."

"Is it that bad?"

"The fringe benefits make it worth while."

"I spent the weekend with Angie at a spa. Nearly every inch of me has been massaged, moisturized, exfoliated, and in some way beautified. And, well, there is this," She lifted her shirt a few inches and unveiled the top portion of her henna tattoo.

"It just seems wasted on me alone…"

Booth slipped two fingers behind the button of her jeans and tugged her into the house.

"Does this mean you want to see the rest of it?"

"No, it means I _must_ see the rest of it." He tugged her to the bedroom, and spun her in a wide circle by her waistband so her back was to the bed. He undid her jeans and yanked down. Brennan laughed and grabbed underwear so they weren't torn down with the jeans. Booth nudged her backward so she was forced to sit, then he grabbed the bottom hems of the pant legs and tugged them completely off. He held them over his head like a trophy and tossed them behind, oblivious to where they landed.

"Now, I can get a proper look," he said and laid Brennan back. She giggled now and then and Booth traced the design with his fingers.

"Wow, Bones, this is, just wow. Does it wash off?"

"No."

"It's permanent?"

"No, it wears off with time. It will last a few weeks. The color will deepen in the next day or two. It will get less orange become reddish brown."

She inhaled sharply as Booth traced the design with his tongue.

"This is better than Roxy," he said against the tattoo.

He jumped up to his knees, "I know!" He left the room and returned with a camera.

"Booth, no," Brennan objected.

"I promise, I'll only get the tattoo. Your sexy little panties will be our little secret!" The camera flashed.

"That's great." He showed the image to Brennan. "I can put this one with my shoes!"

"Booth, that's disturbing."

He lay on his side next to her with his head propped on his hand. His other hand continued caressing the tattoo.

"Yes, it is." He agreed smiling.

"This scares me, because until now, I could close the marriage up in the Vegas box and the Aurora box. This lets it out of the box."

"Yes, that's true."

"Booth, aren't you afraid?"

"I don't usually run when I'm afraid, and neither do you."

"I run when it's the best option, and so do you."

"True, but I guess I see some options."

"Tell me the options you see Booth. Make me feel better."

"There are too many options," he kissed her forehead, "to list." He kissed each cheek. "But, they come down to," he kissed her nose, "this basic truth." He kissed her mouth, slowly gliding his tongue behind her teeth along the roof of her mouth, around the tip of her tongue, and along her lips.

"You don't need to make any decisions right now." He breathed heavily into her ear, and traced its contours with his tongue, then he whispered into it, "Because as long as I'm convinced you are seriously considering me as your husband, I will be here for you," he flicked his tongue in and out of her ear.

His hand moved down her leg.

"Does that make you feel better?"

"Yes, it does."

"Your hair smells spicy and exotic." He buried his face in her hair. "Your new style is attractive too." He murmured in her tresses.

"You noticed."

"Of course, I have an eye for detail. A nose too. Usually your hair is fresh and fruity."

"Which do you like better?"

"Tonight, I like spicy," he kissed her neck and undid the buttons on her blouse, "Because tonight you are exotic."

He opened her blouse with his teeth.

"Your skin is as soft as silk."

"It's been pampered all weekend."

He softly ran his rough cheek along her leg. He returned to her lips and kissed her.

"Can I finish pampering you?" he asked with his lips on hers.

She tugged his shirt over his head.


	6. Chapter 6

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

CHAPTER SIX

Susan H.

Booth tried to roll away and lay beside Brennan, but she held him in place. He repositioned himself and tried to carefully distribute his weight, not wanting to smash her. She held his head in her hands and stared in his eyes. He kissed her and stroked her hair.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"You're wearing your wedding ring."

"Privately."

She stroked his back.

"Why?"

"Temperance, being married is a big deal to me. I don't like that we were coerced into this, but once it was done, something clicked in my brain. It's like I woke from a dream and said, 'Hey, I'm married.'"

Brennan stroked his hair at his temples.

"So, you weren't secretly pleased?"

"No, believe it or not, the thought of forced marriage was distasteful. I tried to stay positive for your sake. But like I said, once we were married, it's hard to explain. I just felt married."

"I've never told a man I loved him."

"I know."

"Do you love me?"

"Carefully."

"What?"

"I love you carefully. I could easily throw my whole heart into it, but I hold it back cautiously."

Brennan nodded her head. "That's probably best for now."

She pulled his face toward her and kissed him. She ran her tongue along his neck and covered it in tender bites. Booth moaned. Brennan pressed her fingers into his back and pushed against him. He pulled up, breathing heavily. She rubbed her foot up and down his calf.

"Have you ever told another man, that you never told a man you loved him?"

"No, I haven't."

"Well, that is certainly something."

She tickled his chest with her fingers. He closed his eyes and drank in the sensation.

"Booth, are you still in there?"

"No, I'm floating somewhere above here."

Booth flipped over and pulled her with him.

"That's better," he said, "I didn't want to crush you."

"You weren't crushing me. The weight was," she paused to think, "comforting."

"Well, now you can comfort me."

"Sounds fun."

***

Later, the two lay on their backs.

"I would love something to drink, but my bones have turned to jelly," Booth said.

"I could give you ten reasons that statement is completely inaccurate."

Booth laid his palm on her tattoo.

"I could give you ten reasons you love me. Do you want to go first?"

"No, I don't think I can. My bones are jelly."

"I thought as much," Booth said.

Brennan crawled over Booth toward the floor.

"Ouch!" Booth said.

"Sorry, guess my bones weren't really jelly."

She went into the kitchen and poured two glasses of cold water. Back in the bedroom she handed one to Booth.

"Thank you. There is reason number 1."

***

The next morning Brennan worked on placing tissue markers on her skull.

"Good Morning Brennan," Angela said as she walked into the lab.

"Good Morning Ange" Brennan smiled.

"Well look at you. You're glowing. I guess my little weekend plans really did you some good."

"Yes, yes they did. You're glowing too."

"Yeah, well, that's because I spent the night showing off my tattoos, if you know what I mean."

"I believe I do."

"I'm ready for the skull anytime you are."

"Thanks Ange. Not long now."

"Good Morning Dr. B," Hodgins bellowed as he walked in. "I finished processing the soil samples, the bones you found in Aurora were definitely buried near Stone Mountain, originally."

"Good work Dr. Hodgins," Cam said as she entered. "The DNA reports show all the bones from Aurora belong to the same person."

"Good Morn-ing Squints." Booth announced as he entered the lab.

"Morning Booth," three voices yelled out.

Angela leaned over the second level rail.

"Booth, why are you so cheerful?"

Booth smiled and looked up at Angela.

"Can't a guy be in a good mood Angie?"

"Booth! You got lucky this weekend!"

Booth pointed up at her and shook his finger, "You know Angie, you can't prove that, and luck has nothing to do with it. But my gut tells me you definitely got lucky this weekend."

"You betcha big guy!"

"Is this appropriate talk in a forensics lab? I'm holding a dead head," Brennan said uncomfortably.

"Truckin'!" Booth said.

"I don't know what that means."

"You know Dead Heads. Fans of the Grateful Dead? Never- mind."

"This skull is ready for Angie to sketch."

Booth followed Brennan to Angie's office.

"Ange, the skull is ready."

"Great, I'll get right on it Sweetie. Um Booth?"

Booth jerked his head up.

"What were you looking at?"

"I wasn't looking at nothing."

"Hmmm, that's a double negative."

Booth shook his head and turned a palm up making his "what are you talking about?" face.

Booth then followed Brennan to her office.

"Booth, I don't know why I didn't think about this, but the DNA sample we got from Mark's sister will only be valid on murders he committed since the BMT."

"BMT?"

"Bone Marrow Transplant. Could we contact Anne Marie again, and see if she can help us get some of his original DNA?"

"I can call her, and send a local agent to retrieve it, if it exists."

"If not, Anne Marie still shared half her DNA with her brother pre-transplant. That will still be helpful."

"Agents are still keeping an eye on his every move. I read the report this morning. He knows he's being followed, and quickly identifies agents in every new state. He's enjoying the attention. He'll get sloppy."

"Okay," Brennan said.

"Yeah, okay. Well, I'll pick you up in an hour for our appointment with Sweets?"

"Sounds good. Bye Booth."

He reached out and tapped her hand before he left.

Angela stormed into the office.

"Brennan, does Booth know about your tattoo?"

"What?"

"He couldn't pry his eyes from your navel."

"My navel doesn't show."

"Exactly, it's like he knows it's there."

"Angela,"

"Look Brennan. Something is up. I'm going to figure it out."

"Okay. Let me know when you do." Brennan smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

CHAPTER SEVEN

Susan H

Brennan and Booth sat outside Sweets' office.

"Booth."

"Booth!"

Booth snapped his head up.

"What?"

"Stop looking at my tattoo. Angie noticed, and now she says she's going to get to the bottom of things."

"The bottom of what?"

"Angie suspects you know about the tattoo, and she won't stop now until she gets answers. You're not exactly discreet."

"Discreet? This is Angie we're talking about. You can't hide sex from Angie," he whispered.

"I just think that a trained and experienced FBI special agent should be able to guard a secret."

"They didn't exactly have a "hide your sex-life from the likes of Angela" class at Quantico."

"You were a sniper. I thought stealth was your specialty."

"Sure, if you want me to shoot her."

"I think we could investigate some other options first."

"Well, that's reassuring."

"We need a red fish."

"A what?"

"You know a red fish to throw her off our trail."

"Red herring Bones, a red herring."

"Well, okay, Red herring. Do you have one?"

"We could tell her the truth. She would never believe it."

"Hmm, but that wouldn't really be a red herring, that would be more like "hiding in plain sight."

"I see, so far we have the red herring method and the hiding in plain sight method. How about we use the "toss her a bone method', where we tell her a little of the truth to get her off the case."

"Are you mocking me?"

"Not at all, I'm just reviewing our options."

"You know, Mark is hiding in plain sight, he has tossed us a few bones, do you think there are any red herrings involved?"

Sweets' door opened.

***

The staring contest began. Sweets knew immediately that the two had rejoined ranks.

"You both seem to be less angry today."

"You're a genius Sweets. All we needed was some time away from each other," Booth said.

"What about your friends' arranged marriage."

"Oh that. We decided to let them work it out themselves. Why should Booth and I argue over it?"

"I see. Things were pretty heated on Friday. I got the sense you were arguing about something more significant than your friends' marriage."

"I don't believe in that," Brennan answered.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just saying that I'll argue about whatever is bothering me. I never feel the need to cloak it in some kind of psycho-babble deep-seated layer."

"That's true. She will fight about anything," Booth agreed.

"How about you Agent Booth, do you ever cloak your arguments in psycho-babble deep-seated layers?"

"When I was 13, I liked this girl named Crystal, and I wanted to ask her to the junior high school dance. But, my friend Donny Oliver asked her first. When he found out that I had wanted to invite Crystal to the dance, he asked if I minded. I said no, and I went to the dance with my second choice, but Donny spilled some soda on my shoe, so I punched him. Does that qualify?"

"So who was your second choice?" Brennan asked.

"Oh, that was Beverly. She had long pretty hair, but an irritating giggle. Did you ever go to school dances Bones?"

"No, I was in school to learn and study. School dances were social rituals designed to reinforce the notion that athletics, beauty, and popularity made one more important than intelligence, creativity, and hard work."

"No one asked you, huh?"

"That's not the point."

"Actually, Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, none of this was the point."

"I'm sorry, what was the question again Sweets?" Booth asked


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I hope everyone is enjoying this story. Thank you to my regular reviewers. It's always good to hear from you. To the rest of my readers, if you don't wish to comment, I'll respect that. But please consider leaving me a message, it's very encouraging, and it is what makes writing these stories fun. So, I hope to hear from you. Also, other readers may judge this story by your comments, and choose to read--so you may also be doing me a favor. Thanks! Susan**

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

CHAPTER EIGHT

Susan H

Later that afternoon, Brennan called Booth.

"Booth," he answered.

"Booth, we need to get a DNA sample from Mark James."

"I thought we had that covered, Bones. What are you thinking?"

"I was thinking about red herrings. Would Mark protect his DNA so closely if he knew we could just go to his estranged sister and collect it?"

"Do you think his sister lied?"

"I don't have proof that woman was his sister."

"Her records checked out. Anne Marie James, sister of Mark James does exist."

"Can you have an agent follow Anne Marie?"

"Probably. If I word the request right. Wait a minute. Bones, I'm sending you a picture."

Brennan opened the attachment, and a New Orleans' driver's license for Anne Marie James popped up on the screen."

"Booth, that's not the woman we talked to."

"I know. It's 10 years old. I am sending you her current license."

Brennan opened the second attachment and looked into the face of the woman she met in New Orleans.

"I didn't go back that far when we first looked into this Bones, I just checked her current information."

"Booth, where is the original Anne Marie?"

"Bones, I think we have enough for a warrant now."

Brennan closed her phone, and Angie knocked twice and walked in. She turned her sketchpad and showed Brennan the face.

"It looks like the second Stone Mountain victim was Margaret Fisher."

***

Two hours later, Brennan's phone rang.

"Brennan."

"Bones, our pet psycho has boarded a plane for Virginia. I have a warrant, and agents will pick him up and ship him here for questioning. I asked Sweets to observe."

"Okay, when?"

"He'll be in D.C. tonight, but we'll interview him tomorrow. Let him spend the night in a cell. When will you be ready to go home?"

"I am finishing up here, so whenever you're ready."

Booth walked through her door and closed his phone.

"I'm ready."

Angie zoomed into the office as though her radar had picked up something.

"Hi Booth."

"Hey Ange, how are you doing?"

"I'm just fine. What have you been up to?"

"Well, I have a fish named Henry. It's really Parker's, but he lives with me."

"Uh huh, anything else?"

"Nope. But I heard that you and Bones got tattooed this weekend. Where is yours?"  
"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yes, I would."

"Well, I have one here," Angela said, and pointed to her hip.

Booth stared at Angela's hip.

"What is it?" he asked.

"A little bird on a branch."

Booth continued staring.

"Uhm Booth," Angela said, "You don't have x-ray vision."

Booth snapped his head up.

"Oh sorry Angie. I do have an imagination though. Do you have any others?"

"Hmm, yeah, but I don't think I'll point your imagination at those body parts."

Booth glanced at her hip again. Angie covered it with her hand.

"Okay kids, have a good night." Angela left the office

"Booth, that was brilliant. Would that have been a red herring, hiding in plain sight, or throwing a bone?"

"I think a little of all three. I'm not really sure those are FBI sanctioned categories anyway. So, you think I'm brilliant?"

"Sometimes."

"Yep, you think I'm brilliant."

"I said sometimes."

"I'm hungry. Do you want to stop for dinner?"

"I'd rather stop for takeout."


	9. Chapter 9

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

Chapter NINE

Susan H

When Brennan and Booth reached his house with the takeout, Booth grabbed a suitcase from the backseat. That morning, they had stopped at Brennan's so she could grab a few things, just in case.

"I love this suitcase," Booth said.

"Why?"

"Because it means there is a chance."

"A chance for what exactly?"

"I'll take whatever is offered."

"You mean sex."

"No, I mean whatever is offered."

"How about a hormonal woman with cramps? Will you still love the suitcase?"

"Absolutely. I make a great heating pad."

"I wouldn't have expected that from you," Brennan laughed.

"Why?"

"You seem so uncomfortable with discussion about the female body."

"Well yeah, the female body in the abstract, but not one I know intimately."

"Fair enough. So how does the heating pad thing work?"

"That's on a need-to-know basis," Booth laughed.

They entered the house and set up dinner at the table. Booth tapped the fishbowl, and Brennan sang out, "Hi Henry."

"Bones, I don't think he heard you."

Brennan looked at the fish floating in his bowl, upside down.

"Oops. I hope Parker isn't too disappointed."

"Oh no. I'm not telling Parker. I'll replace Henry."

"That's not rational. Goldfish die all the time. Parker should know the reality."

"Parker calls this little guy family."

"All the more reason to tell him the truth. You wouldn't replace his grandmother if she died, would you?"

"Do you think I could get away with it?"

"Booth!"

"Okay Bones. I will replace Henry, but I'll tell Parker the truth. I wonder why he died."

"Did you feed him?"

"Yes! Well, once for sure. I'm a little murky on the details after that."

"I wouldn't object to you keeping that little detail from Parker."

***

That evening, as Brennan showered, she chose the spice scented shampoo from the spa and washed her hair and body with it. She avoided her tattoo as much as hygienically possible so that it would last longer. The color had deepened to amber.

She turned off the shower and wrapped her hair in a towel, and wrapped another towel around her body. After brushing her teeth, she decided to add a light coat of mascara and thin layer of blush to her face. She was pleased with the non-made-up look.

She dressed, and walked into the living room wearing her red Vegas nightshirt. Booth sat on the couch watching television. She stepped between his knees, and blocked his view. He hit the power button.

He buried his face in her stomach.

"You smell so good," he said and closed his eyes and moved his face along the front of her shirt, inhaling and exhaling deeply. He slid his hands under her shirt and pressed her back toward him.

"Can I see it?" he asked.

"I wonder is it me or the tattoo you like better?"

Booth lifted her shirt, "They are both strong contenders."

She felt his soft mouth and tongue on the tattoo, and her knees wobbled. Booth tightened his hold on her, and continued his moist sensual dance over the tattoo. Brennan ached unbearably and moaned. Booth slowed his movements and worked beyond the tattoo.

His motions became less tender and more urgent and he drew her skin into his mouth allowing his teeth to graze as it retreated. His mouth released her, and his hands lowered and pushed until she was on his lap. She let out a small, high pitched cry as she tried to catch her breath.

Booth softly stoked the outside of her thighs, and with each pass, moved slightly inward. Brennan closed her eyes, and rocked her body to the rhythm of his hands. She wanted to grab him, and smash her mouth against his, and pull off his shirt, but she didn't want to interrupt his stroking hands, so she expressed herself with increasingly intense body movements.

When he reached her inner thigh, she couldn't control herself anymore. She yanked at his shirt until he helped her remove it, then she yanked at her own, craving skin-to-skin contact. It was Booth's turn to close his eyes and moan as she ran her hands, mouth and tongue along his torso.

She sat back flushed and breathing heavily. He gently guided her face to his, and tenderly kissed her lips. She pressed harder, but he forced her to slow down, torturing her with the slow sweet kiss. Gently parting her lips with his tongue, but barely penetrating her mouth. He pulled away each time she urgently reached for more.

He ran his tongue along her jawbone and up to her ear. She pressed her ear to his mouth, and her insides nearly dropped out with every exhalation of his breath. He kissed the side of her neck until he reached her shoulders, where he bit the soft flesh.

Brennan pulled back and looked him in the eyes. She panted and worked his shoulders with her fingers.

"You're tormenting me," she said.

He stood up carefully, Brennan wrapped her arms and legs around him, and he carried her to the bedroom.


	10. Chapter 10

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

Chapter TEN

Susan H

The next morning, Sweets studied Mark from the observation room.

"Well," he addressed Brennan and Booth, "this is a man quite comfortable in his own skin. See how he sits, as if he is completely in control of the situation. Watching him, and reading his letters tells us that he considers himself superior. He believes he has won the game. He will view you both as lesser beings. Prepare for a mental war."

"Thanks Sweets. Fortunately, I have my very own genius to engage in that mental war," Booth nodded at Brennan, who smiled.

They exited the observation room, and Sweets saw them enter the interview room. Brennan sat, and Booth touched the knot on his tie and sat also.

"So we meet again Mark," Booth said.

"Always a pleasure Agent Booth. And beautiful Temperance, how are you today?"

"I'm pretty satisfied to see a sociopath killer in shackles," she answered.

"Sociopath? My sister calls me that. I think of it as a pet name."

"Don't you mean used to call you that Mark, or is your sister still alive somewhere?" Booth asked.

"You met my sister."

"We have agents collecting DNA from her now, and we have a warrant to collect yours, so I'm pretty sure it will prove she's not your sister," said Booth.

Mark shrugged, "I'm adopted."

"Your sister claimed she donated bone marrow to you to cure your leukemia," Brennan said, "It's highly unlikely an adopted sister would be a match."

"So Anne Marie lied to you about donating bone marrow and that is my problem how?"

"We have old and new driver's license photos of your sister Mark. They are not the same person." Booth said.

"I know. My sister experienced test anxiety. She could drive just fine, but every time she took the test, she failed. Eventually, she got a friend to take the test in her place, so the first picture was of her friend. After that, she just needed to renew her license. No one even questioned her old picture they just took a new one. That will happen on a busy day."

"Why would your sister lie about a bone marrow transplant?" Brennan asked.

"She's a habitual liar. She makes up stories, backs them up with documents, the whole works." He leaned forward and whispered to Brennan, "I always thought she was unstable, but my parents never took me seriously."

"So, your sister's the liar, she committed fraud on her driver's license, you're adopted, and we bumping into you twice, in unlikely places was just coincidence?"

_"Booth, this is going to be a hard one to crack. You have to find some way to undermine his confidence,"_ Sweets said in Booth's ear.

"So tell me, are you two still enjoying wedded bliss?"

_"What?"_

"Are you confessing to sending us the note to marry?" Booth asked.

"What note? You told me on the elevator. Remember Temperance, you and I were hitting it off really well until your husband interrupted. You assured me the marriage was temporary. You were really sexy during your workout too."

"Really, you thought I was sexy?" Brennan asked.

"Um, Bones, psychopathic killer, maybe you shouldn't flirt."

"I don't know Booth. We don't really have a case against him, and he is cute."

"Bones!"

"Are you jealous Agent? I guess you couldn't give her all she needed."

Brennan reached across and stroked Mark's hand.

"Do you have what it takes Mark? I really need someone creative and bold. I'm still looking for the magic."

"Aren't you just a little worried about the charges against me?"

"Agent Booth is the one convinced you're guilty. I never really believed him." She leaned forward and whispered, "Personally, I think he's a bit jealous. I mean, he's used to being the alpha male in the room. You must really crush his pride."

"Bones, I don't even know you anymore."

"I don't know Seeley. I don't think you ever really knew me. I'm a genius, and I need a man with a high IQ." She winked at Mark.

"You aren't guilty are you Mark? You didn't think up this entire scheme. You haven't killed for years unsuspected, only to reveal your work now. Have you Mark?"

"What do you think Temperance?"

"I think that I'm shamelessly attracted to your intelligence, to your body, and your beautiful blue eyes. But, I just don't believe you posses the type of genius it would take to pull this off."

"Oh, you don't?"

"No. Don't take it wrong, I know you are extremely intelligent. That's good enough for me."

"Good enough for you? You should be more concerned that you are good enough for me."

"How's that Mark?"

"You haven't even started to comprehend my genius."

"Well, no offense, but you're a salesman."

"That's right Temperance. The perfect job, it allows plenty of time and mobility for my extra curricular activities."

"Help me understand your genius Mark. Educate me."

"People like us, we are better. We were given brains that outweigh everyone else. They are beneath us, Temperance. But they still have the nerve to act like they are better than us. Don't you hate that?"

"Yes, when they talk like they are above us, but they are nothing but ants on our radar."

"Exactly. They make their rules, and try to force us, try to make us stupid, and force us to play their game. We can't play that game though. Our brains don't even fit on the game board."

"They are contemptuous morons Mark. They could never understand."

"So it doesn't matter whether they live or die. People like us can decide for them. They are nothing. It's why you work so close to death. You recognize the power. You just need to step over, and realize the power is yours and mine."

"When did you realize you could just step over, Mark? How did you claim your power?"

"I showed you the picture of my first kill. She thought she was better than me."

"No one is better than you Mark."

"No, and now she knows that."

"And now, so do we," Booth said.

Mark laughed. "You still lose Agent Booth."

"Why is that?"

"My sister didn't lie about the leukemia. I'll be dead before the trial. I just couldn't go without telling the world how I outsmarted them all. Check your mail. Names, locations, dates, it's all there. I outsmarted you all."

He winked and blew Brennan a kiss.

**PLEASE LEAVE ME A REVIEW. THANKS! SUSAN**


	11. Chapter 11

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Susan H

**A/N I Know that some of you hate the idea of Mark getting away by dying of natural causes. So, I'm hoping this chap will help feed your need for blood vengance. LOL--Susan**

Brennan snapped on latex gloves and opened a DNA kit.

"Well, Mark, we still get to collect some of your DNA," She said approaching him with a swab. Mark leaned forward and opened his mouth. As soon as Brennan's hand was close enough, he snapped his teeth at her. She was quicker and slammed his nose.

"You know," she said looking at the blood on her gloves, "this will work too." She carefully removed the gloves, and slipped them into an empty glove.

Booth turned, cocked his head and stared at Mark, as blood poured off his chin and saturated his shirt.

"Um, Bones, I think he's bleeding out."

"He has leukemia, his platelets are failing to clot, and considering he is probably severely anemic, you should call for medical attention."

Booth made the call as he watched Mark's color drain with his blood.

"You might want to tilt your head back there killer," Booth said.

Brennan snapped on another pair of gloves and stepped behind Mark. She grabbed his forehead and yanked it back and pinched his nose.

Mark struggled weakly against her administrations.

"What's wrong lover? Has the bloom worn off already?" she asked.

Mark's voice was nasally, "You bi…"

Brennan shook his head, "Save your strength tiny man."

Booth backed into a corner, avoiding stray blood drops.

Brennan restrained Mark until techs arrived with a stretcher.

"He's weak but combative. Protect yourselves," Brennan commanded.

The techs put on masks and clear plastic visors.

"Watch him, he's a biter," Booth offered from his corner.

Brennan continued holding Mark's nose as the techs packed it with gauze. She let go of his nose, but continued holding his head.

"I've got a tiger by the tail here guys, if I let go, he's likely to strike. I can hold his head while you put him on the stretcher."

The three completed the operation smoothly, and the female tech took over holding his head until he was tightly strapped in place. They then strapped a plastic visor to his head to prevent him purposely splattering blood.

"Bye Sweetie," Brennan said waving.


	12. Chapter 12

SWEETS PLEASE HELP

CHAPTER TWELVE

Susan H

"You sure worked hard to save his life," Booth said.

"The last time a suspect almost bled to death, you charged me with attempted murder."

"That was a different situation. You shot the guy, in his house, without warning, with alcohol on your breath."

"Oh, had I known that, I would have let this guy bleed to death."

"Really?"

"We'll never know now."

"I'm your husband now. I can't be forced to testify against you."

"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, I need a word with you."

The two stopped and turned to face Sweets.

"We have to talk."

"About what Sweets?" Booth asked.

"Your secret marriage to start with," Sweets whispered

"You're going to go on the word of a serial killer?" Booth asked.

"Well, you didn't argue with him, and it explains your fight in my office. I believe that you two are married."

"Booth, I thought it wasn't healthy to involve the children in marriage problems."

"You're right Bones. It could scar them."

"Well, but does it have to be our child per se?"

"I don't think they ever really say Bones. It's best to play it safe."

"Okay, you explain it to him. You have a son, and more experience at these things."

"Sweets, we understand that you are concerned about me and Bones, and our situation, but it's up to us to work it out. It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong! Remember, even if we choose to end the marriage, it will never change the way we feel about you."

The partners turned and walked away.

"Okay, walk away and make your jokes. This isn't over," Sweets told their backs. Booth raised his arm in a half-hearted wave, and they kept walking.

THE END


End file.
